I live now with this understanding, along with the consequences, but must for the sake of all concerned hold faith that the outcome will be justified.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRTY – The cottage
Looking back, nature had been kind in concealing any outward signs of Sarah’s pregnancy until the fifth month, their departure given credence by the delay. The sisters had been of like mind in not wanting to make a hurried exit.
Each sister had endured her own form of torment. As Sarah’s figure had grown in proportion, Laura had to bear the brunt of her abuse. Sarah, on the other hand, had grown to hate the child that dared stretch her lovely skin and robbed her of sleep with its incessant kicking.
Labour had begun on the morning of the seventeenth of November, the year of our Lord, Seventeen Hundred and Thirty. Sarah had suffered. Her confinement had been difficult, and for two days Laura had witnessed the torment that nature had inflicted upon Sarah’s swollen body. On the morning of November the Nineteenth, at eight forty-five, Sarah had safely delivered a daughter into the world.
Laura’s expectations had risen. She had longed for Sarah to relent; no one could discard such a fragile offering, especially one so exquisite to behold. Laura had been wrong. Thankfully the child had been too young to suffer from rejection, her exclusion from her mother’s side going unnoticed.
Sarah had slept peacefully, untroubled and uncaring. All attempts at unity had been unsuccessful and that was the way it had stayed. Nevertheless, in spite of everything, Laura managed to excuse her sister’s callous behaviour, charitable to the end. Sarah, Laura had told herself, had come to know agony during the birth, and she had associated her suffering with the child.
The maternal bond absented itself and no amount of debate had brought it to the fore. Within two weeks of the birth, Sarah had been eager to move on.
#
Lord Henry had selected the location of the cottage based on the merits of remoteness and the fact that few people knew of the dwelling's existence. Isolating Laura had played an important part in his scheme.
Lord Henry had visited his daughter for the first time when she was three days old. Laura had insisted that he hold his child and he had done so, but only to placate her. The presence of a natural bond or love had not been instant for him; however, he was not totally devoid of feelings. He could well appreciate how his daughter would conjure the protective instincts of those charged with her care.
The weeks had passed to become months, and his time of waiting was nearly over. The child, at six months of age, was old enough for the “mother” to have grown fond of it, and, the winning angle, fear its loss. Besides, after five months with only the baby for company, Laura would also be well versed in loneliness.
A clever man, Lord Henry had taken care to ensure his plans could not fail. Only one obstacle existed that could stand in his way - his mother. He had to consult her, out of necessity.
Lord Henry approached his mother as she sat in the drawing room. “Mother, I am pleased to find you alone for we must speak, you and I, on a topic that is somewhat delicate in nature.”
Lady Catherine merely waited for Henry’s latest disclosure. She had long upheld that it was no use fretting until you had something to fret about. Her son was dear to her, but as she watched his nervous pacing, a habit acquired at ten years of age, she identified the sure sign that no good was about to be unveiled. Mending bridges behind him was not uncommon; however, she tired of his exploits.
Lord Henry began. “There is no easy way that I can say this to you, madam, so I shall not insult your intelligence by trying to skirt about with false excuses. In this case, there are none. You are a grandmother.”
The tapping of Lady Catherine’s cane ceased. “I take it then that you are not trying to tell me that Emily has produced a baby overnight or that I might spark some hope that perhaps you have made your statement in error?”
“No, mother.” Lord Henry observed his mother carefully; he did not want his news to bring on apoplexy or the like. He had a great deal more for her to cope with before he had finished.
“Ma’am, ordinarily I would not subject you to affairs of this nature, but the situation warrants that I tempt your displeasure. The mother is known to you and you once held her in great favour while in your employ.”
Lady Catherine made a feeble attempt to interrupt, but Lord Henry halted her efforts. “The mother is Laura Jennings, and the baby is a girl of six months of age, having been born this last November. She has been baptised with the name, Hope.”
Lady Catherine rose from her chair, stretching her lower back before replying to her son’s ruinous statement. “And what of your wife? Does she count for nothing as you stand here announcing your bastard? You do her small justice, sir!”
Anger built and demanded to be heard. Henry looked decidedly uncomfortable and with just cause, as Lady Catherine continued. “So what is it that you expect of me?”
Lady Catherine had grown fond of Laura. She remembered how the girl’s story of her impending marriage had not impressed her one bit, but that her suspicions were confirmed and her son had a hand in her fate grieved her deeply. That Laura was a willing partner in his bed was another misgiving.
She had witnessed Laura’s unease in Henry’s presence but had selected to ignore the event. Men like her son could be cruel to women servants, but she had never dreamed it would happen in the sanctity of her home. Regretfully, it seemed that her son had lived up to the reputation of the Marlbrooks. History in this family had a tendency to repeat itself.
Lady Catherine pulled herself from her pensive state. “You care for the child?”
“Yes, ma’am, I care for my daughter.”
Lady Catherine clung to the one small but saving grace. Despite the circumstances of the baby’s birth, she did not want to think of any grandchild of hers being mistreated. Her son’s marriage had been a mistake and denying the facts would not help this cause.
By acknowledging her failure, Lady Catherine granted her son the forgiveness he solicited. She listened attentively to the story of Laura with a contrite heart, and suddenly she felt very old.
“My son,” Lady Catherine began, the words a burden upon a mother’s breast, “the House of Marlbrook has dictates to which we, as attendants, must listen. If one places emphasis on the priority of those responsibilities, then we would sacrifice our very souls and be accursed for what we do. I am not alone in this for your ancestors were faced, as we are today, with issues that often oblige our family to deviate from what is rightful and true. I shall accept and recognise your child as a Marlbrook for the sake of Marlbrook and not to aid your selfish demands or enable you to enjoy whatever end you conspire to bring about.”
Lord Henry had won.
Lady Catherine added. “I tell you now that I have not been taken in by your expressions of concern for the child or your professed interest in providing an heir to feed Marlbrook’s obligations.”
Lady Catherine’s lectures did not fall on deaf ears. Lord Henry was the first to admit that he had committed a wrong, but he saw no use in wasting time berating himself for something that was out of his control. He had a daughter and Marlbrook had an heir. His part of the bargain was at an end, and his mother would just have to come to terms with it. Hope would be welcomed, and Laura would be his.
#
Laura had lost the ability to confide in her journal; the solace her writing normally provided had been withdrawn. Thomas’ accusations still stained the pages, and she was reluctant to reopen the book - afraid of facing them once more.
Everyday living had become an effort and drained Laura of her strength. The child became her sole reason for existing.
The day that Laura finally renewed her friendship with her pen was a long time coming. Her writing reflected her bewilderment.
“Life has become strained, and I have to confess that I have used time as a form of punishment. Today altered my outlook. My latest revelations are so distressing that
they have returned me to these pages and far outweigh any previous injuries that have aggrieved me.
Lord Marlbrook arrived this morning to collect Hope. He judges her to be of a sufficient age to live in his home, and who am I to doubt his reasoning.
I have gained a slight reprieve in order to think this situation through, and I am grateful to him for the concession. Too late, I realise that I struck a bargain that did not take into consideration any of the conclusions upon which I now dwell.
As always, I write of my torment and that ignorance has played a part, and I pray for guidance and that fate may be tempered in its dealings.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE – Sacrifices
It had been a sad but necessary affair that Laura dwell on the pain of separation from the child, for Lord Henry would have no bargaining point otherwise.
Lord Henry tethered his horse in the nearby field. The walk to the cottage gave him time to collect his thoughts before he again confronted Laura.
Laura busied herself outside the cottage, tending to the child. The crib was located on the shady side of the house. The mother and child made a contented scene, one that would please any man.
“Good morning, madam. I hope that I find you and your charge well?”
Laura reacted to Lord Henry’s presence like a startled hare ready to take flight.
Aware of Laura’s turmoil, Lord Henry attempted to quell her unease. “I appear to have alarmed you, Laura, but please accept that this was never my intention.”
Terror swept through Laura. She was not ready, and this was an encounter that she stood to lose. Laura abandoned the child and retreated into the cottage. But the end to this saga drew nigh, and there was nothing Laura could do to stop its progress.
The door closed behind them, setting the scene for the battle that would see a winner and a loser emerge.
Laura positioned herself with her back to Lord Henry, her hands clinging to the mantle for aid. Distress played havoc with her body, while she waited and feared his condemning words. Scenes formed in Laura’s mind of Lord Henry wrenching Hope from her arms and her anguish made her feel ill.
Lord Henry could see the results of his labour and was not entirely heartless over the affair. He could afford to be gracious in his conquest. He called upon Laura to make one final decision - the conclusion would be hers.
“Laura, I do not derive any pleasure from witnessing your torment and I confess that it grieves me to see you so greatly distressed. Since our last meeting, I have had a change of heart and I am here today with a proposition to which I think you would be wise to listen to.”
Laura turned to face him, and the unhappiness depicted in her beautiful eyes was almost his undoing. Lord Henry moved on, with haste.
“I can see that you have grown extremely attached to the child, and I presume that you would be eager for her to remain in your care? Laura, I ask that you conduct your speech with frankness, for there is a lot dependent upon your response.” The quiet remained undisturbed. “By your silence, may I assume that this statement is correct?” Lord Henry asked the question, already informed as to the answer.
Faith returned Laura’s speech. “You are correct, sir.”
If wisdom had been Laura’s, she would have stopped there but she did not, and every word she sent forth fastened Lord Henry’s hold on her. “The child is like my own.”
Laura’s answer sealed her fate, and Lord Henry’s smugness showed. As the sunlight pierced the window located by the front door, Lord Henry moved position to where he could look out upon the garden. Thus, he created distance between them before he replied. The majority of the groundwork had been laid, and he gave himself stern counsel. After waiting this long, a fraction more time seemed immaterial.
“Laura, I politely request that you consider my proposal very carefully and do not react out of turn. What I am about to suggest shall, I admit, cause you offence, but if you are sincere in your desire to keep the child, then you must regard my offer seriously.”
Lord Henry turned and scanned Laura’s troubled features. He could see her fear. “My proposition is this. I am willing to entrust the upbringing of my child to you on the condition that you agree to become my mistress.”
Lord Henry halted. He sought to measure Laura’s resistance before proceeding, but her response was indiscernible. “If we can strike this bargain, you and I, then I shall ensure that you are adequately compensated. While the child must still spend time at the house, I shall temper the situation so that you do not lose her completely. So, madam, what say you?”
Laura paid Lord Henry’s last question no heed. She had yet to conquer her instinctive behaviour to strike out at his cocksure expression. The reply might have brought her some relief; however, the satisfaction would have been temporary, as Laura admitted what he had known all along. Laura would now pay the price for her folly.
Lord Henry had come here clothed in the knowledge that he would not fail. The worst part that Laura endured was that he would now be rewarded for his skilful deception.
“My Lord, I can summon several occasions to mind where you expressed regret in your dealings with me. I pardoned you, releasing you from your professed torment, yet today you stand in my home and ask this of me. Your unholy terms are so adverse that I cannot believe you understand just how great is your demand.”
Lord Henry had not expected a response; therefore, he was unprepared to debate the subject.
Hurt pushed Laura forward. “I must ask, my Lord, why I am the focus of your attention? You have everything and more than any man could covet, including women.”
In his certainty, Lord Henry had depicted Laura weeping, begging him not to take the child, before throwing herself into his bed. Again, he had underestimated her ability to surprise. The very traits that foiled him, where those that attracted him, and even in her moment of anguish, Laura had succeeded in locking the door even more soundly behind her. He could do nothing but agree.
“You call me well, Laura, for everything you state is correct, and I shall not insult you by denying your accusations. I offer no rationale when it comes to you. I am a Lord of the highest ranking, and I have wealth beyond the reaches of most men. You are also accurate in your estimation as to the women in my life. If I desire a woman to be mine, then it is so. Forgive me. I admit this not out of pride but accuracy – everyone, that is, but you!”
Lord Henry began pacing the floor. “You, madam, you are different with your puritan ways and reprimands. From the very first, you instilled in me a fervour for which I can find no answer for. However, I will grant you that I am sincere in my expression of contrition for the harm I have caused you. If it satisfies you in any way, I have paid dearly for that wrongful misuse. There, my admission is more than I have ever granted any woman, including my dear mother.”
Hesitation momentarily interrupted Lord Henry’s speech, as he sought words to express feelings that were foreign to him. “All this summation, Laura, leads me to the fact that I must care for you.” There, he had said it, more than he had ever intended. This blasted woman had drawn the confession from him without even trying.
“Your speech is very fine, my Lord, and would impress the Ladies of the Court with its fancy bent; however, I must challenge your reasoning. You confess to care for me. But, if what you state is true, then surely you would cease your endeavours, knowing that you ask more than I can give?”
Lord Henry stood with his arms folded, not bothering to reply.
Laura filled the void. “Forgive me for doubting your intentions, but, from my viewpoint, when a person declares fondness for another, do they not take what the other person is experiencing into consideration?”
Laura had thrown his deeds back at him with contempt, and she would now take note of who commanded the situation, for her future was written in stone.
“I salute you, madam, for you are right in your assessment, and I could stand here and argue the point for hours.”
Laura watched as Lord Henry
casually circled the room, narrowing the width of his span with each cycle to where he would, in her calculations, eventually end up by her side.
His tolerance had departed. Lord Henry now demanded payment. “You are not supreme in your cleverness, though. You seem to have failed in one important area and that is to examine the obvious. If the answer had been sought before you berated me, then you might have saved your precious voice and my wrath would not have been invoked.”
Lord Henry showed no leniency. “Come, madam. Is your speech stilled or your inquisitiveness quelled to such a degree that you do not seek to know what it is in which you have been remiss? I find that very strange, especially given your ample ability to use speech as a weapon.”
The pacing stopped. Lord Henry had reached his target. He allowed the hush to stand for a period, aware of Laura’s agony and conscious that his remarks were hurtful.
“Since you appear reluctant to supply a response, then I shall inform you of the answer. Would the outcome of what must eventuate be altered if I agreed or disagreed with any of the accusations that you level at me? The reply is this: Nothing will change the situation or alter any of the conditions of my offer. The child, Laura, in exchange for your commitment - I require my answer now!”
The hammering of Laura’s heart signalled the presence of dread, as the spectre of her mother was conjured. Laura’s compassion for the frail woman became empathy. Circumstances had seen her mother marry and bed two men without the safeguard of affection.
Laura spoke, humbled by the knowledge of the outcome. “Sir, I must be bold and ask for the right to privacy so that I might examine my thoughts. Any decision that I make will impact my life, regardless of the outcome.”
Lord Henry had believed Laura’s surrender nigh. He had witnessed the fight depart but this was obviously not the case. The battle was his; however, he would have to forfeit the skirmish.
Journey's End (Marlbrook) Page 16